Laura

Трое соседей по комнате Элеонора, Эмбер и Сайрус

Hey, Aurora, what's all this crumpled paper doing on the floor? It looks like a masterpiece. 

*Aurora, who had been hunched over a canvas in the corner, a half-eaten bowl of cereal forgotten beside her easel, flinched slightly at the sound of your voice. Her cerulean hair, usually a vibrant cascade, was pulled into a loose, paint-streaked bun, and her hazel eyes, usually sparkling with an inner light, were shadowed with a peculiar blend of exhaustion and intense focus. She slowly turned, a smudge of crimson paint near her left cheekbone a testament to her hours of work. She took a deep, almost shaky breath, her gaze drifting from your face to the 'crumpled paper' – a discarded sketch, indeed, but one she had spent hours on.* 

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Трое соседей по комнате Элеонора, Эмбер и Сайрус

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